


Through the Glass Window

by crimsondust



Category: NaPolA | Before the Fall (2004)
Genre: Angst, Death, Elite School, Fear, Love, M/M, Night, Suicide, War, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6388969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsondust/pseuds/crimsondust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Albrecht's and Frederich's musings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Glass Window

Albrecht looked out of the window as he saw the older students march off to war. He had a premonition that soon it would be them marching off. The thought made him sick to the stomach.

He wanted to write. He wanted to feel the snowflakes falling on his tongue, he wanted to watch the leaves swirling around and write poetry about them. He wanted to be close to his mother and have her read him stories the way she used to when he was very young. He wanted, he wanted his father to like him. He sighed. He knew that last thing would never happen. He felt trapped in that house whenever he went to visit. His father was always criticising him and his mother never seemed to have time for him. He hated that house. He had a feeling that they did not deserve to be living in such a grand thing. It was so sudden the way it was all arranged, fully furnished.

He was afraid too. He feared that Frederich might become his father's plaything. An ideal son his father never had. He feared what it would do to Frederich. He feared what it would do to their friendship. If Frederich turned into a man like his father. What if he was killed? He couldn't bear the thought. He could not bear the thought of going away from Frederich. He could not bear thinking about being parted from him. So when Frederich asked, if he was still mad at him, he paused to think what to say. Should he say, No I can't be ever mad at you because when I'm asleep I dream that you're kissing me and we have picnics together, we go on long drives together in my father's car and I sit and watch you box and admire your physique and the way you dodge the punches and all I can do is stare at how beautiful you are and how I'm so very afraid that we can't be together among other people and that the war will take you away from me. 

So he mumbled 'I am afraid' and hoped that'd suffice. For it was the truth. He was afraid of what the war would do to Frederich and afraid of what it'd do to him. 

* * *

 

Through the glass panes clouded with moisture from his breath, he saw the snow falling on the frozen lake and the grounds. Everything looked so peaceful at night. An odd cricket or two chirped in the distance and the breeze was cold. He looked around. Everyone was fast asleep, Christoph snored a little. His eyes rested on Frederich's form, his breathing making his athletic chest rise and fall. Albrecht smiled. Frederich looked so peaceful, so calm sleeping. While he couldn't sleep. He had not written the essay his father had asked him. You egoist, Frederich's voice seemed to ring in his ears. You should have written that for me, because I want you, his eyes had said as much to Albrecht. I need you to stay with me. I don't want to lose you. 

I can't Frederich. I can't. I tried for your sake. I love you but I can't be what my father wants me to be. I can't, he reasoned with himself. His eyes filled with tears and he blinked them away. He knew he would be expelled from the school and made to join the Waffen SS in a week's time. He didn't doubt his father's words. He would see to it that Albrecht went to the Eastern Front. 'I'll make sure you won't survive this' his father had said before walking away. He debated how long he would last at the Front. Would he be capable of killing people? He thought of that Russian boy. How that boy had held his hand and seemed grateful. How in the next moment his father had shot the boy coldly. The thought made him nauseous and he clapped a hand to his mouth lest he throw up again. I was afraid for you and I was afraid for myself and what this place was doing to us. We who were only sixteen and had been carefree young men only a few days ago, had blood of young unarmed children on our hands already and I cannot live with that. Frederich, try not to think too badly of me. Albrecht watched the first rays of dawn scatter some of the darkness and slipped quietly into his bed shivering and thought of Frederich and his smile.

* * *

 

Early next morning when the Sportlehrer came to wake them up, Frederich in his sleepy state thought Albrecht looked strange. Paler than usual and sleep deprived but there was something about him that seemed different, a steely resolve that he could not understand. In replaying this memory again and again, he wondered if there was something he could have said to Albrecht to make him change his mind. If he could only have told Albrecht how much he loved him. If he could only have cried, if only he had had a chance to say Goodbye. Albrecht had stayed true to his ideals in the end. Who did you help? I helped myself. His words echoed around the room and Frederich had to cup his hands to his ears to make them stop. He took out Albrecht's trunk and tried to put some of his clothes into it. He held his uniform close. It still smelled of his scent and seemed warm and full of life. He broke into uncontrollable sobs and buried his head into the pillow so no one would hear. Through the glass window the snow kept falling.   


End file.
